50 Shades and Blurred Lines 9
by CockEyedGopher
Summary: Just when there's a "Happily Ever After" - or so it seems - sometimes Life has other plans...


Chapter 60

Two weeks later, he was making his way through Seattle-Tacoma International Airport when Taylor spotted him and within seconds, Christian was surrounded by family...and most of his security staff (which made him wonder _who_ was watching the house; images of robbers having a field day cleaning him out ran through his head). Everyone fussed over him and studied him so, that he felt like a child in a pack of nagging, clingy mothers...and some of them _were_ naggy, clingy mothers.

Ana burst into tears rather dramatically despite the fact that Christian looked better than he had in weeks, hearty and tan, his eyes sparkling. Flynn noticed the sabbatical (in name only - Christian had actually worked his ass off the entire time he was in Darfur) had screwed his patient's head back on straight and nodded approvingly, his eyes meeting Grey's in silent commiseration.

Christian picked up his son, and as the entire party made their way out to the cars, he turned to the good doc and snapped in mock anger, "Isn't this a breach of doctor-patient boundaries?".

Flynn smirked at him. "_You're_ giving _me_ a lecture about boundary-breaching?"

That trademark sideways grin appeared and Christian backed down. "Point taken."

At the house, Mia made such a scene Christian found himself joking about Xanax. Elliot gave him the once-over briefly, and as their eyes met, he knew his brother was okay, and left him alone, for which Christian was profoundly grateful and it showed in his eyes. The outpouring of love was moving, and Christian found himself a bit choked up, but he was a man before anything and all the clucking, hemming and hawing was driving him nuts, and he said so. His dad laughed the loudest at that - he understood how the Grey women could be, and winked his eye at his son conspiratorially.

Kate (who Christian had still never grown to like, merely tolerate), started asking too many questions in typical journalist style, about his escapades in Darfur while Ava played with Pheobe on the floor. The sight of the children together made him smile, and he was already in a good mood, so he humored her.

"Primarily the usual when I'm there, food detail. Coordinating things, making sure to get enough food there to pass out to the villagers who'd returned to the rural areas, helping with deliveries to those who stayed in the makeshift camps. You know, things are a lot better there than they were a few years ago, finally there's some degree of peace returning to the area without some of the politicians instigating shit, handing guns to people, encouraging chaos. Is it perfect? No, there's still a lot that needs to be done, but things have come such a long way, and now you see so many smiling faces, so much hope. It's beautiful."

Teddy was getting fidgety by this point, making it clear he wanted off of his dad's lap to participate in the fun with the other kids on the floor. Christian sat him next to Ava and continued, "About a week into things, a few workers injured themselves while they were trying to help build homes, and the village found themselves short-staffed on that end. So from then on I was working double-duty, food detail and construction. I was working day and night basically, but I loved it, I loved helping, and I think I needed it."

Grace and Carrick beamed at him.

"My brother, the super-hero." Elliot crowed, and Christian rolled his eyes.

The next three days were spent swamped in a deluge of paperwork, cleaning up the merger mess; handling some current offers that were on the table, as well as developing some new initiatives he'd come up with during moments of inspiration in Darfur. The break was good for him and he was able to work with renewed focus, and vigor, skipping lunches, working into late hours of the night. He was on a roll and he knew it, and was determined to get as much out of it and himself as he could, but he missed her, and on the fourth day Hope opened the door to find him standing there, grinning down at her mischievously.

They were sitting on the floor in front of the tv, gobbling down pizza.

"That guy still looks like Elvis to me", Christian said, pointing to Link again.

Hope grinned at him. "No shit."

When Christian showed up at the door demanding to be let in, and heard "Hairspray" playing he exclaimed, "Again?!", and Hope pointed to the pizza and countered with, "I could ask you the same thing", and now here they were.

Christian turned and looked at her. "This is like that movie Groundhog Day".

Stuffed full of all the pizza he could take, he turned to the bag beside him, pulling out a huge woven cloth, and draped it over Hope's head in the style worn by the women of Darfur.

The look on her face was priceless.

"I guess I don't have to ask if you like it," he said, his eyes shining.

"Your feet stink," Hope said later, lying next to him on the couch.

She heard the smile in his voice. "Liar", he shot back quietly.

"Yes they do, they smell like ass."

Christian guffawed and almost shot soda out of his nose.

They watched another movie.

Later, Hope was sprawled on the loveseat; Christian, stretched out on the large sofa a couple feet away.

"I didn't know what to think," he said finally. "I just didn't want you to leave, and I don't know - I didn't know what to think anymore."

"You thought what they said was true and that if you waved a few bucks in front of my face, that would make me stay." Hope muttered bitterly.

"Initially I thought it was bullshit - usually I can sniff those out from a block away, and you didn't seem the type. But after awhile, the stuff they said to me started to stick. Think about it, all your exes are rich celebrities. You really don't see how I came to that conclusion? I may not be a household name, but I have money coming out of my ass, and I played the hell out of the hand I had."

This conversation was pissing her off. "I never asked any of them - ever - to make me a star, or give me any money. I never asked them for shit. I've never understood for the life of me why they think I was in it for that, and worse, keep going around telling people that bullshit."

Now she was riled up and agitated, and bolted upright, and Christian started trying to talk her down, but she was off and going. "Hope - "

"Did I ever ask _you_ for anything either? No, right? Sure, they're all stars or whatever, but that was never the draw. Do you know, I met my first ex in a chatroom? I didn't even know it was him at first, I just liked the guy and we started talking."

He tried again; he didn't want to hear details about her and anyone else; he was a jealous man. "Hope, listen - "

" -And my second ex, that was purely accidental. I was following a random MySpace page that had his name on it. Sure, I thought it could be him, but I thought it was just as possible that another fan had just opened an account as a joke or tribute to him. I requested a follow, then left a comment in case it was him, pretty much a 'I like your music' sort of thing, only to find out later that the account was really him."

Christian stared at her.

"My last ex, I was a fan of his work and made the mistake of mentioning that in earshot of my _first_ ex, who promptly turned around and contacted the guy - I guess to warn him away thinking I was going to try and track him down or chase after him. After being told God knows what about me, the guy decided to come around and observe me firsthand like some kind of traveling sideshow exhibit...and that's how _that_ one happened."

After a long pause, Christian spoke again. "Do you know how far-fetched that sounds?", he said dubiously.

"You think I'm lying? The truth is stranger than fiction a lot of times. Weird shit tends to happen to me, and considering the life you've had, you should know firsthand that anything is possible."

She was glaring at him, and he could see her point. It's not really typical for the poor son of a dead drug addict to end up adopted by a prominent family, go to an Ivy League school, and wind up a multi-billionaire businessman.

"Touche", he replied, but Hope was still irate, and sat there for a long time in stony silence. Christian got up, crossed the distance between them, and sat down next to her, pulling her close. She resisted, her body stiff.

He said finally, "I don't think you understand how things look from the outside sometimes, though. It didn't look too good."

"Yeah, but you _knew_ me. We'd gotten to know each other and had hung out for a while. You should've known that I'm not like that," she snapped, the pain audible in her voice. "For you to even think I'm that kind of person..."

She stopped and then changed direction, "And why the _fuck_ did you think I was lying when I told you I didn't sleep with him? I didn't. When I was there, we were in totally separate living quarters. I slept in that room, _alone_. In fact, he barely even talked to me once I got there, and I barely even saw him. From what I overheard the staff saying, he was holed up in his room on the computer talking to random women day and night on the internet."

Christian was trying to calm her down but she was on a bender, and wouldn't stop. He didn't even think she _could_ stop. "Do you know, that whenever I did see him usually at some point soon after that, the rest of his clique would show up? And you know how that usually went - because you were there to see it the last time. After awhile I started wondering if maybe I was giving him more credit as a person than he deserved, and if he wasn't setting up these run-ins on purpose for his own entertainment."

Christian had sussed that out immediately himself, and now they'd finally gotten to the big pink elephant standing in the middle of the room, and it was his turn to be angry. "You just took off, who the fuck does that? You didn't even come to me to talk about what you'd heard. You just left, and didn't even tell me you were going."

Hope looked away. "I don't know, it just freaked me out, and the fact that you hadn't said anything about it made me wonder what else you hadn't told me."

"What, did you think I was going to start hitting you? Had I ever asked to beat you? Ever?"

"No." Now it was Hope's turn to look ashamed.

Christian put his face in his hands, and sighed. "Okay, I think we both need to just calm down and come back to this when we're in a cooler headspace."

"Actually I think we're both pretty fucking calm considering how our arguments usually go," Hope countered. "Why hadn't you told me about this stuff."

"I was going to eventually, I just didn't know how; plus I was worried about how you'd take it. I thought you'd run, and clearly, you did." He said bitterly.

After a short pause, he asked again. "You really didn't sleep with him?".

"No!" she snapped. "He barely even talked to me, other than taking me out to buy a bunch of clothes I didn't want immediately after I arrived. Do you know at some point he had the maids throw away the clothes I wore over there? Then he pretty much abandoned me and I was left to my own devices. I wanted to talk to somebody, someone I know, so I called my brother. I thought about calling you but I figured that might not be a good idea."

He looked at her and his eyes said everything. "I wish you had."

"I thought you wouldn't want me to, that you'd be pissed and go off on me."

Christian pulled her onto his lap and had his arms around her in nanoseconds. "No, I wouldn't have," he said quietly.

"You made me pay for it later", she countered.

Christian silent for awhile before finally, "I know. I'm sorry."

Hope shook her head. "No, that wasn't really you anyway, that had more to do with other stuff that I triggered by leaving I guess. At this point I don't hold it against you, because I know you wouldn't have done that otherwise."

"I have...abandonment issues."

Hope guffawed loudly. "Clearly!".

Christian smiled a bit, but it was tinged with sadness.

"If I had known, I would've done things differently," she said.

He pulled back. "I don't want special treatment. I wouldn't have wanted you to stay if it wasn't what you wanted to do."

Now she was exasperated. "That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is that I'd have at least talked to you about it before I did anything one way or the other. I wouldn't have just vanished."

His hands were everywhere; and he kept nuzzling her face. "You're very tactile," she said clinically.

"When are you going to stop this bullshit hardass routine and just let me love you?" he murmured wryly, sick of arguing, still working her over.

"Never!" she quipped in mock defiance, and he laughed.

"You're so full of shit. Can I kiss you?"

After a second's contemplation, she nodded.

"Good. Shut up," he said and leaned in.

Later they lie together, staring across their pillows at each other.

"Why didn't you tell me you had asthma," he said softly.

She was taken aback, and it showed on her face. "..._That_ came outta nowhere," she quipped.

He ignored it, thinking about the nebulizer machine again. "I just don't want to lose you."

"You worry too much. I'm fine. I'll probably outlive you and everybody else I know."

He laughed.

"I love you", she said again.

His eyes shone and seemed a little wet; the smile he gave her was priceless.

Christian sat across from Flynn the next day, grinning like a jackass.

"Things are okay?" Flynn asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"...When I was on the way out, she was taking pics of the spider crawling on her wall with her phone, and then she sneezed and got snot all over her face, but yeah, things are good."

Flynn smiled. "Very well, then."


End file.
